


Rough Treatment

by CedarTheBarefoot



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM Scene, Bondage, Bottom John Marston, Communication, Consensual Sex, Consensual Violence, Dark Roleplay, Dom Arthur Morgan, Enthusiastic Consent, Gags, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, M/M, No Spoilers, Post-Coital Cuddling, Rough Sex, Sexual Roleplay, Sub John Marston, Top Arthur Morgan, non-con elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 14:40:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18448655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CedarTheBarefoot/pseuds/CedarTheBarefoot
Summary: John sighed, kissing his lover. “Yer fit to make a man feel properly helpless,” he chuckled when they parted.Arthur shrugged, “Can’t say a part of me didn’t like takin’ advantage. Play actin’.” He looked away for a moment and admitted, “But...I did get a little worried once or twice. Thought maybe I went too far.”





	Rough Treatment

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn’t sure if I wanted to post this one. 
> 
> Essentially John and Arthur do a scene. They are both of age, it goes well, no drop or real injuries or anything like that. They communicate, they have a safe word just in case. It’s just that it’s a dark scene with non-con elements. If you are uncomfortable with something like this, that is perfectly okay, and I would suggest reading something else.
> 
> I was educating a coworker recently who had some questions about scenes, specifically “consensual non-consent.” I found myself writing this tonight.
> 
> I try not to judge people on their kinks, as long as everyone is safe, consensual and of age. Plan ahead. Communicate and listen to each other properly. Have a safe word or two, or however many you need. Take care of each other. And once more, be safe!

John cried out, and squirmed desperately. A firm hand slid into his long, dark hair and clenched into a fist. Hard. Hard enough to hurt. 

“Better keep still, boy,” came a low warning. 

It was remarkably difficult to keep still. John was bent over a creaky table, and held down by the hair. His hands were bound tightly together behind his back with a leather belt. His trousers and pants were yanked down around his knees. 

And Arthur fucking Morgan was currently sliding his slick fingers in and out of his hole. None too gently neither. 

John gasped and bucked, sparks flying in his brain and his belly. Too much. Too quick. 

“I said, _keep still_ , boy!” Arthur growled, holding John down harder against the table by the hair. 

In response, John writhed and breathlessly spat, “Fuck you!”

The hold on his hair picked him up, and then slammed his head against the table. A grunt was driven out of him, and he saw stars. 

“Yer startin’ t’make me mad, Marston,” Arthur said, withdrawing his fingers. “Yer gonna get hurt if you make me mad.” A shudder rushed down John’s spine, and he groaned. His hole stretched open as Arthur started pushing his cock into him.

“Fuckin’...you sick son of a, _oh fuck_ ,” John choked at the slick burn of it, his body tensing up at the intrusion. Arthur was big. Very big. 

“Shut up, I swear I’ll gag you.” 

John bit down on a pained squawk. 

Arthur groaned, still holding John’s head down, “Mmh, yer real tight, boy. Best not struggle too much.” He pulled back a bit and eased in again, making John draw in a hiss. The next movement of his hips was less gentle. His cock slid in further. John yelped, and his bound hands closing into fists. 

“Please,” he ground out, clenching his eyes shut.

Arthur moved his hand from John’s hair to the back of his neck, and bottomed out. His hips pressed flush against John’s arse. Bent over the table and held down as he was, his bodily reaction was subdued. Oh, but Arthur relished the way John’s mouth dropped open in a silent shout. His big brown eyes shimmered wetly in the lantern light in the old hunting cabin. 

Arthur shuddered and began to move, giving John little to no time to adjust. He set a brutal pace almost immediately, taking his pleasure. He grasped the belt, wound around John’s wrists, using it as leverage to aid in his punishing thrusts. The man below him howled. 

“Arthur, please!” He begged. 

Arthur didn’t let up, and growled, “Quiet.” 

“Please! Fuckin’ hell, Arthur!” 

Sighing in exasperation, Arthur pulled the handkerchief from around his neck. “Told you t’be quiet, boy.” He slipped it between John’s teeth and jerked back on the ends behind his head, drawing him painfully back. 

Like the reins on an unruly horse. 

The muffled whimpers that came from John made Arthur shiver, and add more force to his thrusting. Pounding into him without abandon. Without mercy. The table creaking dangerously underneath them.

John’s eyes rolled upward, his protests dying in his gagged mouth. Overwhelmed, overstimulated and rapidly coming undone. His passage spasmed around Arthur who reached down between the table and the man beneath him. 

His calloused hand expertly took hold of John’s fat, rigid cock and stroked. The muffled whimpers grew in intensity, worldless pleas lost in the handkerchief. The sounds he made became louder, more desperate. 

A muffled scream filled the cabin. Arthur felt John spill over in his fist, moaning breathlessly against the cloth in his mouth. His thrusts grew frantic, and only moments later he came off with a guttural groan. His legs quit, and he slumped over on top of John, the table whining at the weight. 

The two of them panted deep, heaving breaths. Silently they tried to pull themselves away from the lingering temptation of blissful unconsciousness. 

Arthur was better able to do so. He managed to get his legs back under him and push himself up. Very carefully, he pulled his softening cock from John’s hole, leaving a dripping trail of spend. A small, pathetic sound left the boneless heap that John had become. Gentle hands unwound the belt from around his wrists, and slipped the handkerchief from his mouth. 

John was vaguely aware of being pulled upright and then swept up off of the floor. Strong arms held him against a solid chest. Familiar and safe. And then he was lying naked against that chest in a cot that had certainly seen better days. 

Water dripped into his mouth. Tired, but with a thirst, he drank. Something like dried venison was slipping into his mouth as well. With a sudden, ravenous hunger, he ate.

“Good boy.” 

Fingers combed soothingly through his hair. The soreness in his scalp was fading away. Another hand stroked softly up and down his spine. 

Eventually, John came around. He opened his eyes, adjusting in the new darkness. The lantern had been doused, and he was being held in Arthur’s arms. His uncut, blond hair was in a state of disarray. He’d lost his shirt at some point, and his pants if John was right in thinking their bare skin was pressed together all the way down to his feet. The wool blanket from their bedroll was covering them up. Kind blue eyes met his, and smiled softly, “There he is.”

John blinked quietly, the corner of his mouth turning up to smile back.

“You okay?” Arthur asked, cupping John’s scarred cheek. 

“Yeah,” John rasped, “You?”

“M’okay,” Arthur reassured, leaning in to kiss him. 

John sighed, kissing his lover back. “Yer fit to make a man feel properly helpless,” he chuckled when they parted, “That was _real_ good, Arthur.” 

Arthur shrugged, “Can’t say a part of me didn’t like takin’ advantage. Play actin’.” He looked away for a moment and admitted, “But...I did get a little worried once or twice.” 

“Yeah?” John prompted.

“Thought maybe I went too far,” Arthur relented, going back to combing his fingers apologetically through John’s hair. 

In return, John shifted down a little, nuzzling against the muscled chest, dusted in blond hair. “S’okay, you didn’t. I got my word, Arthur. I woulda used it if I didn’t want everything you did to me. I know I’m safe with you.” He playfully tweaked one of Arthur’s nipples, and received a soft cuff on the side of the head for his trouble. 

A kiss dropped onto his forehead and Arthur settled down for sleep. No one had any right to look so lovely. Goddamnit, John loved him. “‘Sides...I like it when you give me a little rough treatment.” 

“...I’ll keep that in mind.” Arthur drawled sleepily.

John smirked and tightened his arms around his lover. He knew a promise when he heard one.

**Author's Note:**

> Comment and/or kudos! Lovely to hear from you!


End file.
